


Illogical (An Anton Yelchin Tribute)

by hipbonesofChrist



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Reality, Coping strategy, Grief, Losing a friend, Loss, Other, Pain, RPF, Real-life death, Sorrow, coping with loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 03:33:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7250284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hipbonesofChrist/pseuds/hipbonesofChrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tribute and my way of coping with Anton's death, the crew of the U S S Enterprise fall to pieces one by one after Pavel Chekov meets an untimely fate.</p><p>{Please read notes @ beginning}</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illogical (An Anton Yelchin Tribute)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Yes, I know this is very soon for a fanfiction about the Ensign, but today was the most horrible day of my life. I am still crying about Anton's death, and this is my way of dealing with it. So please, don't criticize or say I'm being disrespectful. I'm a writer, and so this is how I honor him and how I cope with it all. You were always the best, Ensign.

Kirk wanted to slap himself. To shake everyone awake. To get on the comm systems and scream to the Enterprise that Chekov, that young, brilliant Russian boy, wasn't gone. That Kirk would never again get to witness the young man dashing about the ship, yelling in barely-intelligible — but, as always, very intelligent — English. He wanted McCoy to say he'd been poisoned, or feverish, and when he frantically asked for Chekov he wanted to see the brunette standing humbly by his bedside, smiling softly, asking, “You have wery bad dreams about  _ me?” _

But as hard as Jim tried, he couldn't seem to wake up. His arm was mottled with blood blisters from pinches, his fingers were bruised purple and swollen — but that was before, from when he'd broken them.

It was a crate sliding around the cargo hold that had done it. Out of all the silly, stupid ways to go, a sliding crate — Jim had to catch his thoughts. Spock was beside him, eyes dark as he tried to rationalize this happening, comparing it to how he felt inside — which was the emotional equivalent of being hit with a phaser set to stun, only a million times worse. Spock was talking to McCoy, something about feelings, facing away from Kirk.

So it was McCoy that saw Jim's face twist into a frown, McCoy who snapped, “Will you shut up!” To an astonished Spock, McCoy who had his hand on Jim's shoulder when he whispered.

“I should have protected him.”

Spock turned to look at Kirk, as did McCoy. Scotty had been behind the Captain, unseen, but he stepped in front of Jim, eyes and cheeks shiny with unhidden tears.

“There was nothing you could do, Jim.” Scotty said in his tear-broken, Scottish accent. Kirk shook his head, refusing to believe it as fervently as he refused to believe that that casket, being shot into space, contained the body of one of the most brilliant Ensigns he'd ever met.

“I should have gone first. I should be the one d…” he stopped, because to go on would be to acknowledge that Chekov was dead, to acknowledge that an accident had happened that left his entire world crashing around him.

Spock recognized this almost instantly. His eyes were sorrowful. “He's dead, Captain. It's real.” He said, voice quiet and unsure for his Vulcan background.

“No!” The agonized word ripped from Jim's lips. Now everyone was looking at him. He couldn't help it. He found his bottom lip trembling, and finally the tears came.

“You fucking  _ stupid _ bastard! How could you  _ do _ this to us? You were too young to do this.  _ Too young to be here _ !” He fell to his knees in front of the coffin.

“I'm sorry, Chekov...I couldn't save you from this... I'm so, so sorry for everything.”

“Jim…” Scotty knelt beside him, putting an unhesitant arm around the younger man. He was silent for a moment, and then he said, “He was damn brilliant.” Jim said nothing, and so Scotty continued, voice breaking. “He was...Do you remember how he always had to say his identification twice, because of his accent?”

Jim scrubbed his face with a hand. “I remember.”

“And how when we were in trouble, the way he ran all the way across the ship, shouting —”

“I can do zat!” They said together.

“Aw Christ…” Scotty suddenly said, wiping his eyes. His voice was trembling more than before. “I thought talking about it was supposed to make you feel...b-better —” He broke off and hugged himself, a burst of sobs shaking his shoulders.

“Aye, who am I kidding.” He choked. “I wish it was me sittin in that box, and him kneelin here cryin over me.”

“We all wish it, damnit.” Suddenly Uhura joined them on the floor, a handkerchief held to her mouth. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, same as the men before her. “I wish it was me...you wish it was you, he wishes it was him.” Out if the corner of his eye, Kirk saw Spock shift, face tortured by the thought of Uhura laying where Chekov now was.

“It doesn't change the fact that we're still breathing.” McCoy said, joining them at last. His eyes were glassy as well, but unlike the rest of them he seemed in a state of shock. “You can beat yourselves up all you want but...I should have saved him. I should have done something, damnit, I —” Uhura wound an arm around his shoulder, feeling him trembling hard.

“Are you really that heartless?” McCoy said after a time of silence. He was staring up, everyone looked where. He was looking at Spock, who was standing rigid, helpless. “My God, Spock.”

“I am not heartless.” Spock protested, hands clasped white-knuckled against his chest. “I just…”

Everyone watched the crew fall to pieces, yes, but everyone especially watched as the Vulcan broke down.

“It's  _ illogical _ !” Spock finally said, eyes shiny. “It shouldn't have happened and now someone is  _ dead _ !” He stood there, staring at them, trembling with emotion that was close to the surface, the impenetrable surface.

“It was unforseen. It was pure happenstance. It was completely illogical that that should have happened and that…” Spock finally broke off, boots squeaking on the floor as he fidgeted.

“I don't know how to process this rationally.” He whispered. “I don't know…”

“It isn't rational.” McCoy said quietly. The sight of the Vulcan stumbling and stuttering over his words unnerved him.

“ _ Then he should be alive _ !” Spock finally broke and shouted, voice cracking. He turned and stormed from the room, leaving the four crew members on the floor.

“He should be.” Jim said quietly. Uhura gasped out another revived round of sobbing and Scotty hid his face with his hands, repeating over and over the mantra the entire Enterprise would over the course of years never forget, until they impossible day when they forgot Pavel Chekov.


End file.
